This proves that great lyric poetry can die, be reborn, die again, but will always remain one of the most outstanding creations of the human soul.

Narrative art, the novel, from Murasaki to Proust, has produced great works of poetry.

Strangely, Dante's Divine Comedy did not produce a prose of that creative height or it did so after centuries.

Man cannot produce a single work without the assistance of the slow, assiduous, corrosive worm of thought.

Mass communication, radio, and especially television, have attempted, not without success, to annihilate every possibility of solitude and reflection.

I have always knocked at the door of that wonderful and terrible enigma which is life.

Slowly poetry becomes visual because it paints images, but it is also musical: it unites two arts into one.